


Just Like That

by AxeMeAboutAxinomancy



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-05 23:29:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AxeMeAboutAxinomancy/pseuds/AxeMeAboutAxinomancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the worst, maybe the very worst day Arthur ever had, before it was suddenly and completely the most brilliant ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Like That

It was the worst, maybe the very worst day Arthur ever had, before it was suddenly and completely the most brilliant ever.

It started out good, like most days; it was a good morning for Arthur, not only because they were flying today, but because he'd been having a really brilliant dream, and he was already looking forward to telling Skip about it because Skip was in it.

They were going several places today, which Arthur always really liked, because several places were more fun than only one place, though as Douglas pointed out once, it really rather _depended_ on the _place._ That might be true for everyone else, but Arthur didn't mind, wherever they went was always exciting, even if they'd been there before. There was always something new!

Mum made a special breakfast. It wasn't his birthday or Gerti's birthday or, or anyone's birthday that he knew about. Surely it was somebody's birthday though. Or, well, lots of people's.

"Arthur. Stop dreaming and eat your breakfast."

French toast! And bacon. Bacon, like Skip's shirt smelt of last time they went to China. Arthur laughed about that to himself. It was always funny when Douglas was the one who made a mistake. He mentioned this to Mum.

"It does have the advantage of rarity," Mum said, but she rumpled Arthur's hair as she went past him to get more coffee.

"Mum, when we get to Germany can we - "

"Er, when _you_ get to Germany, Arthur. I'm not going on this trip."

"What? Why not?"

Mum got a sort of closed-up look on her face. She frowned, too, but that part came after.

"I've got a doctor's appointment. Don't fuss, it's nothing, but I've got to go. You can manage, can't you?"

"Of, of course, but mum?" Not to go with them? Going to a doctor? Special breakfast? "You won't get to see Legoland Deutschland then."

"I think I will survive," she smirked, and Arthur felt a little better.

Mum dropped him off at the airfield after stopping so he could buy a box of doughnuts to share with Martin and Douglas. He got a special breakfast today, and this way he could pass a little specialness on. Besides, Martin never seemed to eat breakfast, and he looked thin, and everybody liked doughnuts.

But that turned out not to be true. Not everybody did. And it seemed he had interrupted an argument between the two pilots when he entered the portakabin, because they were both cross and Martin snapped at him when he offered out the bakery box.

"Arthur, can't you see we're busy! No, thank you!"

And Douglas was really mad and didn't say anything, just glared at Arthur as Arthur, hugging the box, started nervously walking backwards, babbling, "sorry, sorry" until they both shouted at him to shut up.

So he thought to himself in Mum's voice, _Code Red, Arthur!_ and scuttled away, aboard the plane and into the galley like a cockroach.

The passengers going to Günzburg were... they were not brilliant. The ones that weren't shouty just coldly ignored him, and somehow they were worse than the shouty ones, but not by very much.

Martin and Douglas didn't seem to be speaking to one another, and they barely spoke to Arthur, and he was sad because he didn't know why they were angry but if they wouldn't speak to him then he couldn't ask.

There wasn't enough time in Günzburg for Arthur to go to Legoland. He figured that out for himself without having to ask, because obviously even if there had been time, neither of the pilots were going to want to go, no matter how fun it would be. And it would be too lonely to go alone.

Mum really might have gone with him, but... Mum had to go to the doctor. It wouldn't be very much fun even at Legoland, thinking about that. So that was okay that he couldn't go.

The passengers from Günzburg to Stockholm-Bromma were - they were, well, they were sort of, a bit - that is -

Horrible. They were horrible.

They were a group of skiers, some kind of social club, and at first they merely kept Arthur hopping with various demands. That was all right, Arthur didn't mind working hard, and he did his best to push his worry and sadness down and do Mum proud.

But once they'd got a few drinks in them - and possibly some other stuff, there were a lot of trips to the loo and a lot of loud sniffing in it - they got rather mean towards each other, voices getting louder. And there was Arthur, worried and nervous and bound to go wrong sooner rather than later. The service bell rang again.

"Yes, hello, and how can myself help yourselves - ?"

"Mate. What's your name again? Artie? Artie, why do you have to talk like a complete fucking idiot?"

"I - Sorry?"

"Seriously. Why don't you just talk normally? Are you being sarcastic?"

"No! I'm - no, I only - you, you rang -"

"Oh Bob, give it a rest..."

"Fuck you, Linda. You. Artie. Get me another Glenlivet and don't say another fucking word, get that? I don't want to hear your stupid fucking voice for the rest of the flight. Now shut the fuck up and go."

Arthur shut the fuck up, and went. Some of them laughed at him then, and again when he returned with Bob's whisky, and thereafter each time they rang the bell and he attended them in anxious silence. To annoy Bob, Linda moved to an aisle seat and touched Arthur's bum every time he went past her. His ears burned with embarrassment.

It was horrible.

When they got to Sweden, Arthur stayed aboard Gerti to clean up after the horrible people. There were no passengers going back to Fitton, but there was no reason to wait, he wanted to erase all traces of their presence, he wanted Gerti to feel like they'd never been there, spilling drinks on her seats and cocaine in her loo.

He wanted to text Mum and ask how she was, but he realised only now that he'd forgot his phone again. Stupid. Just when he needed it most.

Martin and Douglas seemed a little less angry when they came back from dinner. When Arthur took them their coffee and tea, they were playing a word game, something about place names that started with the word 'new', and then something else, movie or book titles maybe - Douglas liked to make up complicated games. That was a good thing, they must not be fighting if they could play a word game - but they practically ignored Arthur and he went away again, unnoticed.

Nobody wanted to hear Arthur's stupid voice, did they.

Well. He understood, sort of. He really did. He was stupid, and not a proper grownup, and if he didn't live with Mum he probably would have been homeless, because Dad wouldn't even talk to him anymore, not since St Petersburg. And hardly ever before then. All he could do was be a steward - and he wasn't even really that. Not officially. Not really. He was a passenger with a homemade hat. He only got to play at being a steward because his mum owned the aeroplane.

There weren't any passengers aboard now, so he couldn't even play at being steward. He was just the man in the galley.

And Mum. The doctor. The look on her face.

He put his face in his hands.

***

Carolyn called on the sat comm.

"Is Arthur with you?"

"No, he's - "

"Right. Martin, go and tell him I'm fine."

"What...?"

Martin looked over at Douglas. Douglas raised his eyebrows.

"Fine, I said, tell him I am."

"Er..."

"Oh for heaven's sake," and her tone could have struck sparks as it snapped out of the speaker grille, "the stupid boy forgot his phone and he'll have been worrying all day so will you just GO and tell him the doctor said I am FINE and can we leave it at that!"

"Yes, okay - "

"THANK you!" And she hung up.

"Um," said Martin.

"Well," said Douglas.

"Okay," said Martin, and he got up out of his seat.

The cabin was empty, and very clean. Arthur was either in the loo or the galley.

"Arthur?"

As he walked aft, Martin called out again, but more softly, "Arthur...?" because he heard a sort of snuffling noise, and he was pretty sure he knew what he would find.

He'd seen Arthur have a meltdown, once before. Shortly after St Petersburg - it was Arthur's birthday, and Gordon had ignored him, and Arthur had sobbed in Carolyn's arms. Carolyn had said soothing sounding things, in too low a voice for Martin to hear the words. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, he'd only been going to the loo.

Now as he pushed the curtain aside he knew what he would see, Arthur, scared and worried about his mum. But when Arthur looked up at him, eyes streaming, lips trembling, face filled with suffering, Martin felt something happen inside himself. The expression 'my heart went out to him' had never made such visceral sense to Martin until now.

His heart went _out_ to Arthur.

He went into the galley and put his arms around Arthur and said, "It's okay. Your mum called, she's okay. It's going to be all right," and he was talking in a low soothing tone just like Carolyn had, and Arthur was wrapped around him, bowed over so that his face could reach Martin's narrow shoulder.

He patted Arthur's shaking back. "You did hear me, didn't you Arthur?" anxiously. "Your mum wanted me to tell you. She said the doctor says she's fine. Okay?"

Arthur nodded, gulping. But he didn't stop crying.

"Arthur," Martin said softly.

"I'm so stupid," whispered Arthur.

Martin froze.

"I'm so stupid, Skip, you're right to yell at me, what use am I to anyone? Today's been - been awful but - a real grownup doesn't - hide back here and cry just because people are mean, do they? Mum says she's okay? I hope that's even true, but - but - but she's getting older, all the time, and how am I going to live without her, Skip? What am I going to do?" A fresh torrent of tears started soaking through to Martin's shirt.

Martin felt a wave of helplessness go over him. Douglas was clever, Carolyn was protective. What was Martin, when Arthur was in distress?

He knew how it felt, at least. At least there was that.

And to Arthur he was Skip. He was the captain.

"Steady," he said, and put his hand on Arthur's head, stroked his hair. Because Arthur needed that. "Hold on, now. I _wasn't_ right to yell at you, and you're useful to everyone. Am _I_ a real grownup? I know you saw that horrible man from Boston make me cry. And you took care of _him_ ," with a laugh. Arthur quivered, a watery chuckle.

Martin leaned his head against the top of Arthur's head. Arthur's sandy hair was thick and smelled faintly like grape candy. Because it was Arthur, it was hard to know whether it was his shampoo or if he literally smelled of candy; because it was Arthur, likewise, it didn't make much difference.

"Yes. Your mum is getting older." Arthur took a deep breath, but didn't speak. "Mine too. I worry too. If you could have seen my face when you were trying not to tell me she was in hospital!

"I can't tell you the answer to what you'll do. But I can tell you this. My mum absolutely loves you, and I know she'd want - she'd like - for you to, to count on her too. You know?

"And. And Arthur? I'm sorry, I'm really sorry about your dad. He doesn't appreciate you and he should. He should."

Arthur's arm was around his neck. They were so close together.

It was so natural.

"And I'm sorry I yelled at you. I shouldn't have done it. Forgive me."

Arthur pressed his damp cheek against Martin's. "I had a dream with you in it this morning," he said, as quietly as though telling a secret.

"You did?"

The nod shook Martin's head too.

"I hope I wasn't yelling at you in it."

"Oh no Skip. It was brilliant. You were flying!"

"Um?" They were, after all, flying. Douglas was, they all were.

" _Really_ flying. You flapped your arms, and up you went! just like that."

Martin didn't know what to say. His heart, gone out, was not inclined to come back by itself. Not all by itself.

"You looked so happy," said Arthur, and Martin turned, and kissed him.

Just like that.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after reading '[When eyes can't look at you any other way](http://archiveofourown.org/works/706667)' by [EverlivingGhosts](http://archiveofourown.org/users/EverlivingGhosts/pseuds/EverlivingGhosts). FLAP MARTIN FLAP! <3 :)
> 
> Oh, and: Gerti is supposed to be configured differently than I describe in this story. In the Molokai episode they say that you have to go through the galley to get to the flight deck, so it must be toward the front; but my mind's eye persists in showing me the galley at the back. - Even when I can see a set, I do this sometimes. Brain says NO I WANT IT THIS WAY THIS IS HOW IT IS NOW RUN WITH IT.


End file.
